


let's make the yuletide gay

by hidefromeveryone



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Christmas, Christmas Caroling, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Christmas Morning, Christmas Music, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Drug Abuse, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Panic Attacks, Purging, Self-Harm, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8569963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidefromeveryone/pseuds/hidefromeveryone
Summary: It's the holiday season, where joy abounds. There's bound to be some bumps in the road, but in the end love always comes out on top.ON HOLD -> WILL UPDATE IN NOVEMBER / DECEMBER





	1. i'll wrap you up and send you to myself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suicider00m](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suicider00m/gifts).



> happy holidays. you're amazing and make everything better so. here's to a good december. you deserve to have a wonderful holiday season. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Brendon put up their Christmas decorations.

“This is ridiculous, Brendon. It’s only the first of December.” Ryan’s boyfriend’s ass was sticking out from the closet as Brendon shimmied up higher and higher into the abyss that absorbed all the holiday decorations every January. A shriek, a thump, and ten gallons of tinsel later, Brendon lay crushed underneath ten boxes of lights, stuffed snowmen, and outdated candy canes. A santa hat sailed downwards and landed on his face, slowly suffocating the young adult. 

Ryan stepped over the fallen corpse of his lover as he reached up to get the last few boxes of decorations. On his way down the short stepladder, a creature from the deep grabbed him by the waist and drug him forcibly away from the small storage space. Yelling, Ryan tried to get Brendon to free him but the hold was too strong. It was only after Brendon had tied him to one of the bed posts with silver and gold garland that he relinquished his hold. 

“This isn’t _funny_ , Brendon.” A bow was placed on Ryan’s head as Brendon began to tear through the disheveled cardboard boxes. The older teen watched in dismay as the explosion of red and green artificial joy slowly ate away at the room until all visible space was covered in some form of glitter or Santa Claus imagery. A small huff escaped Ryan’s lips as Brendon began hanging ornaments in the loose stitch of his sweater. It wasn't long before his legs were wrapped together in colorful paper. 

“Of course it’s not funny. It’s _cute_.” A heavy groan. Straining against his festive bonds, Ryan grew more annoyed as streamers went up crooked and ornaments were broken on the wooden floors. Lights were placed haphazardly around the outside window as Brendon leaned precariously on the sill. The small tree they’d stolen from a park thirty blocks away was weeping into their sink water, tipping forty degrees to the right in an old popcorn bucket. 

Hours passed. Ryan became more and more entangled in Christmas residue as Brendon screeched and swung around the apartment, vomiting anything bright and full of sparkling shimmer onto every square inch of living space. Frank Sinatra was blasting from a portable speaker in each room. Brendon was happy. Ryan was miffed, to be sure, but he was happy. 

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on your troubles will be out of sight.” His crooning voice could be heard long before his boyfriend appeared once more. Brendon was coming towards Ryan, condensation in his eyes and a giant grin on his face. Removing stray bits of garland from around Ryan’s mouth, he leaned in for a kiss and Ryan surged forward as best he could. Their lips collided in a burst of gingerbread, sugar plums, peppermint. It was sweet, sugar, spice. 

That is, until Ryan began to be choked by his holiday bonds. Brendon burst out laughing as he worked to untangle his boyfriend. Once free, Ryan began running after him. Residue of their escapades stained the ground beneath them. It wasn’t long before Ryan had Brendon pinned against the couch, their warm bodies a source of electricity. 

“Hey, Brendon?” It was muffled by the endless kisses Ryan was placing over every inch of Brendon's visible skin. 

“Yeah?” A bite on his collarbone. Brendon found his opportunity for revenge and took it, flipping their positions. Ryan’s wrists, now pinned above his head, allowed Brendon to fervently kiss his chest, his collarbones, his neck, his jaw, his cheeks without protest.

“Let’s make the Yuletide gay.” Laughter filled the air as they both collapsed onto the ground. Snow was falling outside in the busy city streets. Serenades of singers decades old surrounded their senses as the two lay together by the fireplace as one. Tucked into Brendon, Ryan snuggled deeper as a shiver overtook him. A whimper escaped his mouth as Brendon disappeared. It wasn't long before he was back with a blanket, and the two became entwined once more. 

“I love you, Bren.” Toes dancing, hearts benign, soft sighs escaping into moonlit wine. 

“I love you, Ryan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "sickly sweet holidays" by dallon weekes.


	2. the warmth that's coming from inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh and Tyler bake Christmas cookies.

“Hey, Josh, I was wondering when yo - what the _fuck_ is that.” Tyler was carrying an armful of magazines and ads into the kitchen, where Josh was intently watching something on the laptop. Upon coming up behind his boyfriend to give him a hug, Tyler stopped abruptly when he saw, well, whatever the abomination staining their internet history was. 

“It’s the Jingle Cats, Tyler! It’s cats singing Christmas songs!” 

Repressing a groan, Tyler watched the poorly animated cats swirl in colored backgrounds, artificial tinsel, cheap green screen. The off-tune meows, yelps, purrs stung his eardrums as the weak rendition of classic carols rung throughout the small room. Despite Josh’s ecstatic smile illuminating the space around them, the last straw was when he flicked over to another tab featuring _a Christmas tree on fire_. 

Slamming the laptop shut, Josh pouted and threw himself on the floor dramatically before wrapping his entire body around Tyler’s legs. Annoyed, the younger teen tried to shake him off but Josh only clung tighter as he wailed into the night. 

“Why did you shut it off, Ty?” Tyler managed to shake his boyfriend off only to shriek as Josh tackled him onto the linoleum floors and began tickling his stomach. Infectious laughter filled the air as Josh bit his lip to suppress his own laughter in an attempt to still act devastated. 

“Because it’s _weird_ , Joshie, and we need to - fuck! That was my ribs!” Curling into a ball, Tyler managed to roll away from Josh long enough to stand and retreat to safety on the other side of the kitchen island. The two stood in a standoff, neither breaking their hard glares. 

“We need to do the Christmas shopping, Josh.” A step to the left. Josh took a step to the right. 

“No.” Tyler was close to the computer now. Diverting his attention for a few seconds, he grabbed the slender instrument and moved it to the chair. By the time he turned his gaze back to Josh, he recoiled in shock. 

Josh was holding his beanies above the burner on the oven, one trembling hand hovering over the dial. 

“Put those down.” His heart rate spiked as the first licks of flames climbed towards the fabric. 

“Only if we go shopping later.” Blue, red, orange sparks danced milliliters from the loose stitch of his hats. 

“Okay! Just, put my beanies back!” A yelp of joy and Josh skipped out of the kitchen. Tyler slumped against the kitchen counter in defeat, squinting at the overhead light. He knew Josh was just afraid of the crowds. Hell, he was too. But it was better to get it done sooner, because the stores would only get busier as the season went on. 

“Catch!” Fumbling hands caught the bag of chocolate chips haphazardly sealed, tubes of icing and frosting, old metal cookie cutters shaped like trees and snowflakes. Josh climbed onto top of the fridge to reach the flower and disappeared into its frozen depths for a few moments for butter and milk. 

“What’s all this?” The odd assortment of cooking materials was piling higher towards their smoke alarm and Tyler was growing uneasy. Josh almost fell backwards from grabbing the whisk hanging from their ceiling, and Tyler rushed to catch him. The two dissolved into giggles as they sloppily kissed against the coffee pot and toaster, their reflections shimmering in the shiny chrome surfaces. 

“Cookie stuff, of course!” Pulling out the mixer, Josh slopped eggs, sugar, vanilla into the void of the bowl. A whirlwind of flower poofed into the air and settled on their eyelashes. Tyler felt the soft materials kiss his skin and a smile tugged upon his lips. It was snowing both outside and in their kitchen. 

Two hours and six dozen cookies later, the two lay on the couch, plates of messily decorated cookies and mugs steaming with hot cocoa in front of them. The kitchen lay in incredible disarray as the mess of their weeknight cooking show began to rot into nothing but sugary sweetness. The windows slowly became fogged as their treasures cooled down, the lovers encaptured by each other. 

Slow movements and tender loving kisses painted the night in shades of bright compassion as Josh and Tyler forgot their surroundings in their care for each other.  
The small egg timer went off and Tyler mumbled cadences of evening classes and due dates into Josh’s collarbones. 

“They can wait, baby. Right now, all I care about is you.” Curled toes, dedicated bruises on hips, fingernails embedded in flesh. 

“God, I love you so much, Josh. I don’t know what I’d do without you around.” Christmas carolers and excited children were running down the halls outside their apartment. 

“I love you too, TyJo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "what's this" by fall out boy.


	3. all i want for christmas is you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank serenades Gerard early one holiday morning.

It was three in the morning on the third of December and Frank lay huddled under ten blankets, cocooning himself in a makeshift cave with his laptop. Christmas cartoons blazed across the screen and he hummed along to the simple and playful tunes, fingers tapping out chords which he could rework on his guitars later. He wanted to make Christmas something Gerard could enjoy this year, for he knew the previous one hadn’t been the best when Mikey had been hospitalized for his eating disorder. Gee had done nothing but tear himself up over the course of the previous December, for he hadn’t been allowed to visit his brother. Frank knew he still blamed himself for not recognizing the signs when Gerard had gone through anorexia himself in the past. 

Before long, the sun arose and Frank smiled, grabbing his guitar as he arose from his sheath of warmth. He could see cigarette smoke trailing into the early New York skyline from his window, signaling that Gerard was already outside. Padded footsteps echoed through their small apartment as Frank’s bare feet melded with the wooden floors. The white light of their Christmas lights illuminated their place of living, and a small tree lay against the door frame. Scents of pine and holly filled the air. 

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree.” The sliding glass door cracked open as Frank’s rusty vocals stained the atmosphere, Gerard starting and almost dropping his cigarette into the alley below. 

“I just want you for my own. More than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.” Shifting the newly opened bottle of vodka away from Gerard’s feet, Frank felt a small swell of pride in his chest when he noticed that although it had been opened none of it had been drank yet. 

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need. And I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree. I don’t need to hang my stocking, way above the fireplace. Santa Claus won’t make me happy with a toy on Christmas day.” Gerard shifted to rest between his legs as Frank abandoned the string instrument in favor of his voice in the crisp morning. Warming Gerard’s hand between his, a small smile burst upon his features as Gerard began kissing his collarbones, cigarette long abandoned. 

“And I just want you for my own. More than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is you.” Rolling into their apartment, the cool fire of their touch illuminated their features in the early morning haze. Gerard was smiling. Frank was grinning. 

“I won’t ask for much this Christmas. I won’t even wish for snow. I’m just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe. I won’t make a list and send it to the North Pole for St. Nick. Won’t even stay awake to hear the magic reindeer play.” Warm bites, smooth ripples of fingertips, forbidden kisses in another year. Frank was mumbling into Gerard’s ear as they landed on the oversized recliner near the fireplace, pants already unbuckled and sweaters overhead. 

“Cause I just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight. What more can I do? Oh, our lives are shining surrounding everywhere; where the sounds of children’s laughter fills the air and everyone is singing. Oh, I hear those sleigh bells ringing. Santa, won’t you bring me the only I really need. Won’t you bring back my baby to me.” Flesh collided in tender romance as the logs of the fire burst in sparks of warmth matching their passion for each other. A while later, they lay surrounded by blankets near the railing as snowflakes froze their eyelashes and saliva on their lips. 

“Thank you, Frank.” Hands entwined in bashful admittance of dependence, the heat of their bodies kept each other warm in the frozen wasteland of the city. 

“For what, Gee.” Hollow birds swung through the horizon until Gerard turned to nuzzle his skull further into Frank’s chest. 

“For making me happy. For taking the bad away. When you’re around, things start to be okay again.” Flutters of hope grew and twisted in the dead flowers hanging from the fire escape nearby. Frank smiled into Gerard’s being as he responded, their love solidifying their unspeakable connection. 

“I’m not going to leave, Gee. Ever. Because you do the same for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "all i want for christmas is you" by my chemical romance.


	4. in the vegas lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick worries while Pete puts up the Christmas lights.

Pete was leaning precariously against the roof with a staple gun in one hand and a string of _highly_ flammable Christmas lights in the other. One foot on the ladder, another against the siding of the house, he hummed some Christmas jingle under his breath. Despite his apparent concentration, the lights attached to the snow-covered roof were thus far crooked, tangled, and flashing as if spelling out a message from beyond. 

"I swear, Pete, if you fall off that ladder I'm going to bury your dead body in the clothes your mother decides are appropriate." Patrick's hands were clutched around the flimsy metal of the ladder and his heart stopped when Pete almost fell off. The lights were almost finished and Patrick worried away at his lip and felt his heart clench as an icicle fell a few inches from Pete's brain. 

"It's fine, Tricky, I'm being safe!" This declaration was met with electrical sparks and Pete's laughter as one of the bulbs shattered. Patrick was two steps away from a panic attack and one step away from putting a leash on Pete so things like this stopped happening in the first place. 

"You should have let me do this, Pete." It came out almost in a whine but Patrick didn't care. He wanted his husband back on the ground safe. As he spoke, _Pete jumped onto the roof_. 

"What are you doing, Pete, oh my god." Pete was sliding along the sloped, ice plastered tiles making up their roof and all Patrick could think of was Pete falling off their two-story house and cracking his head open on their plastic Santa near their door or the concrete driveway. 

"I finished the lights, Lunchbox, but there's one thing left to do." Pete was kneeling on the roof and digging around as if searching for something. A triumphant squeal revealed some kind of light plug and Patrick narrowed his eyes in confusion. 

With a flourish the roof lit up in a bright flash of light. Countless thousands of tiny lights revealed Pete's writing and a message of "I love you, Patrick!" complete with a tiny heart and a set of drums and a mic. Shock gave way to delight as Patrick's eyes misted up. 

Before he knew it, Pete was by his side and asking if he was okay. In lieu of a response, Patrick simply grabbed Pete's cheeks and smashed their lips together. Pete responded immediately and before long, they were falling over into the snow. White powder chilled their bones as saliva was exchanged from one mouth to another. Patrick began peppering kisses along Pete's neck. 

"I take it you liked it?" A small bite along his collar bone and Pete's toes curled in his boots. 

"I love it, and I love you." Before long, Patrick was cuddled against Pete's chest in the snow as the anxiety finally caught up with him, and his small breaths were fogging up his glasses. 

"If I knew Christmas lights would make you this passionate, I would have put them all around our room years ago, Patrick." 

Snowballs and an angry, small Patrick chased a laughing Pete all the way back inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "vegas lights" by panic! at the disco. 
> 
> find me on tumblr @hidefromeveryone


	5. you've got family and friends but you don't really talk anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey and Ray come over to help Frank and Gerard decorate the Christmas tree. Things go awry for Frank's having a bad day and Gerard drinks too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please stay safe everyone.

There was a weight on Frank's chest deeper than Gerard, who was nuzzled against him and lost in a deep sleep. Absentmindedly, Frank weaved his fingers throughout Gee's greasy hair, slowly undoing the slight tangles while lost in his thoughts. Gerard let out a low content noise as Frank readjusted the blankets so they were covering his boyfriend more. The noise quickly turned to one of distress as Frank slipped out of the sheets, ignoring the grabby hands Gerard was making in his sleep. Padding his way to the closet, he slipped into his clothes and padded towards the kitchen. Before long he was out the front door, keys in his pocket, phone against his hips, cigarette and lighter in hand. 

The walk to the nearest convenience store through the snow and ice left Frank shivering and pulling his beanie down over his ears. Large clouds of smoke trailed behind him down the New York streets as he chain smoked. His own frozen breaths were lost in those clouds, and he had finished his pack by the time he was shaking snow off his Converse on a worn out shitty square of carpet directly inside the mart. Tinny speakers squeaked out demented Christmas music best left for horror movies. He grabbed tinsel, candy canes, cheap plastic ornaments, strings of small lights, a silver star. A few Marvel ornaments found their way into his hands as well, and a smirk lit up his face when he thought of how happy Gee would be with them. Coffee filters, hot chocolate packets, a box of cereal and a loaf of bread. A box cutter and a tube of ointment found their way into his haul as well; Frank wasn't thinking, but acting on instinct. 

The cashier looked half dead and added a carton of Marlboros to his order without question.

\-----

Gerard _might_ have forgot that Mikey and Ray were coming over today. And that _might_ have been why he answered the doors in nothing but an old long sleeve shirt, ratty scarf, and worn-out pajama pants with turquoise hair dye dripping from his roots. Mikey raised his eyebrow and slipped past his brother towards the closet to hang up his coat, and Ray choked down a lay as he toed off his boots by the door.

"Didn't forget we were coming did you, Gerard?" His tone was mocking, but Gerard's eyes still widened and he involuntarily squeaked before a running ramble of apologies and condolences left his mouth. Turning Gerard back towards the kitchen, Ray gently prodded him towards the sink before his latest voyage of self-expression stained the floorboards. As Gerard was rinsing his hair, Ray mumbled something about putting the tree upright since he noticed it leaning, still wrapped, against the far wall of the living area. Mikey popped into the kitchen soon after, a cheap Santa hat perched on his head and a smirk on his lips. 

"Turquoise? Really?" He was still thin, and Gerard found himself wondering if it was still _too_ thin. Mikey always assured his brother that he was at the low end of healthy, but this was pushing being underweight. But Mikey was wearing a simple t-shirt and some skinny jeans, and leaned past his brother to steal a cookie off the plate Frank had made a few days prior. He was smiling, laughing about the tongue Gee had stuck out at him in response. He wasn't hiding in himself, withdrawn, and his arms were attached to hands which were waving around while Mikey rambled about the new Resident Evil movie that was coming out soon. Gerard threw water at him and Mikey yelped before tackling him to the ground. Before long a puddle of blue sink water engulfed Mikey's Santa hat and dyed it a mysterious purple. 

Frank coughed as he walked into the kitchen and deposited his findings, throwing a box of tinsel at Mikey and the small plastic Captain America at Gee's face. A shriek followed by a suffocating hug from the love of his life later, Frank left to put away the rest of the groceries while the Way brothers dashed off to find Ray. Incoherent Christmas mumbling reached his ears and he couldn't help the smile that came onto his face as he boiled up a fresh pot of milk and emptied the cocoa powder into the cleanest mugs he could find.

\-----

"Gerard, you can't have the Steve and Bucky ornaments in positions like that together on the tree."

"But why not, Mikey!?" 

"They're _literally_ fucking, Gee." 

"Your point being?" 

"It's Christmas! Not XXXmas! Gee... _not Clint and Natasha too!_ "

\-----

"Frank, the lights shouldn't be set to strobe."

"But it's a Christmas rave, Ray." 

"I don't want the cops to come, Frank." 

"Why would they come?"

"Because your tree looks like it's about to catch on fire."

\-----

"Let me put the star on, Gee!"

"Frank, you're too short." 

"No, I'm not!" 

"You have to stand on a box to reach the top of the fridge, Frank." 

"...so? What does that have to do with the tree?" 

"The tree is over six feet tall, Frank, you can't reach the top of it." 

"Watch me." 

" _Frank, no!_ "

\-----

"Mikey, why are the candy canes in the shape of a bass?"

"Because it's the best instrument, Ray, that's why."

\-----

Twelve hot chocolates later, the tree was finished and the four were huddled on the couch while watching Home Alone. Gerard had been sneaking drinks all day, and it was starting to hit him that _maybe_ a whole bottle of vodka hadn't been his best idea ever. Slouched on top of his three best friends, Gerard was mumbling incoherently about how he was a waste of space and how _wow, everything kinda sucks and why is he like this._ While Frank and Ray were busy consoling and comforting Gerard, Mikey took hold of his chance and slipped away from the festive room without any of the others noticing. Sneaking towards his brother and Frank's room, he found their bathroom and quietly closed the door behind him before sighing. He had just started doing this, and honestly, fuck anyone who said it didn't suck.

Two fingers down his throat and a toilet bowl full of mostly digested sickly sweet holiday treats later, Mikey leaned back against the wall while cleaning himself up with a nearby towel. He had waited too long, but he didn't care. Just as he was about to stand up and leave, the door popped open and he froze. Fuck the two of them for removing the locks from all the rooms in the house. 

Frank stood in the doorway, a blade in his hand and a determined look on his face. It turned to shock as he took in everything before him. 

"Mikey...when did this start?" It wasn't angry but it still dug deep into his bones, and Mikey avoided Frank's gaze as he flushed the toilet and stood up. It was just _concern_ , and god, he didn't deserve to be treated that way when he just keeps fucking everything up. He swore as the water from the sink came out too hot and burned his hands. Frank twisted the cold water up until it was lukewarm, and Mikey scrubbed out his mouth with a resigned air. 

"When did you start that again?" A pointed nod towards the blade, and the two stood at an impasse. Wordless understanding of the volatile mix of concern, questions, answers, reasoning, excuses, justification, reassurances passed between them in a sophisticated form of communication. 

"Don't tell Gee." It was said by Frank, to Mikey. 

"Don't tell Gerard." It was said by Mikey, to Frank. 

Mikey left the bathroom, and Frank stayed. He closed the door on his way out. Even if he took that blade, Mikey had seen the razor in the shower, the knives in the kitchen, the lighters in Frank's pocket. He wanted his friend to stay safe, but he didn't know how to make him do so without forcing a fake recovery upon him.

\-----

The four of them fell asleep by the Christmas tree after making fun of Christmas songs and complaining about the weather. Gee was nestled into Frank's chest, and Frank was curled around his boyfriend as much as he could be. Mikey was splayed out like a cat under the tree, and Ray was using his hair as a pillow. They would all have kinks in their necks in the morning, and, frankly, none of them cared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "please don't jump (it's christmas)" by dallon weekes. 
> 
> find me on tumblr @hidefromeveryone

**Author's Note:**

> work title taken from "have yourself a merry little christmas" by frank sinatra. 
> 
> find me on tumblr @hidefromeveryone


End file.
